As marketers and business leaders, we spend years, if not a lifetime, cultivating our brands. They define who we are and generate an annuity of business and goodwill for decades. That annuity helps grow the value our brand equity. Our customers, by purchase and by proxy, derive benefit from our brands. Go walk into a Starbucks. Who is there? Why are they there? What are they drinking? What computers are they using? What are they wearing? What are they reading? It’s all brand. Marketing 101.
So if brand is so important, why are we seeing some of the strongest ones tumble? Because brands are incredibly fragile. Just look at Tiger Woods and Toyota as recent examples. The fallout is not just to the brand-owners but to those who derive ancillary benefit. Tiger Woods’ sponsors are leaving because the brand actually has negative value and it impacts them. Personally, I love watching Tiger play and I enjoy hopping into my Toyota SUV and driving through the New England snow. I’m disheartened by both recent events.
The brand equity ascent is slow and arduous; the descent is fast and dangerous. Paraphrasing a former business partner of mine:
If you’re not careful, you can go from a hero to a has-been in heartbeat.
How true. Is it more challenging these days to protect a brand? Absolutely. The velocity of communications and the acceleration effects of social media leave little time to react. And remember: bad news is like gasoline and good news is like water – all it takes is one strike of a match.
Is there a cure? Not entirely, but integrity sure goes a long way. Not just integrity from the start (Tiger Woods) but also integrity when dealing with and addressing problems as they arise (Toyota). We’ll see how they (and many others) try to regain their brand equity. Much, however, depends on whether those of us who benefit will remain loyal.
Rob Ciampa
Facebook 
What a difference a year makes. Last year, our large Thanksgiving gathering was still divided and at odds over the then recent 2008 presidential election. With the exception of Sarah Palin, which I’ll address shortly, a new, shiny object showed up with the holiday turkey: social media. With three generations at the table ranging from ages twelve to eighty, I knew it was going to be an interesting discussion. For my statistically-oriented and pollster-pushing friends, here is a measurable tidbit: everyone in attendance had an email address – and that included “the elders.” For simplicity, let’s segment the gathering into the elders (60 +), the kids (20 -) and the mid-market (20-60).
Bayou Farewell
Leeville, Louisiana
In 1998, while living north of Boston, I co-founded an internet services company in Atlanta. The following year, when the venture got traction, my family and I left New England, moved to the South, and began a new chapter in our lives. For the next eight years, when not consumed with work, I explored much of the region with my family.
Moving from the Northeast was quite a change, but not for the typical reasons. For us, we gave up regional character, culture and cuisine. For those of you who read the blog I write with my wife, The Two Palaverers, you know why I borrowed that alliteration. Immediately, we began our quest to discover what we left a thousand miles behind. Happily over time, we found it in places like Charleston, South Carolina, Savannah, Georgia, and Natchez, Mississippi, but we knew we hit the jackpot with Louisiana.
For years, we made many visits to Louisiana, exploring much of the state. Each trip offered a different, more stimulating experience, whether it was eating alligator in Lafayette, watching a Sunday service procession along the Mississippi River south of Baton Rouge, or listening to an emerging jazz trio near Tulane University. Louisiana has soul.
Not long after reading the book, I retraced many of Tidwell’s paths through Cajun country and such small towns as Leeville, Galliano, and Golden Meadow. The more I saw, the more I was convinced – and concerned – by how ecologically fragile this region was. Decades of silt loss from the Mississippi and pipeline runs through the swampland were having a range of effects from land erosion to wetland depletion.
Today, we’re all shocked by the endless flow of oil and images from the massive leak in the Gulf. Oil from this region is important to both the people of Lousisiana and the rest of us around the country. I’m sure we’ll have more insight to the cause as the seepage stops. Like every catastrophe, I expect there to be no shortage of warning signs ignored. We won’t know the ultimate impact on the inhabitants or environment for some time. Hurricane Katrina knocked Louisiana down, but it survived. This oil spill, though, is different. I hope it’s not Bayou Farewell.
Rob Ciampa